HMS Veto
by InsertImaginativeNameHere
Summary: A World War II submarine sucked through a rift. A scientist who invented goggles that scan all known information without boundaries. Creatures made of static. Pretty much a normal few days, right?


"Hey Rose. Have a look at this."

Rose sighed as the Doctor turned the screen, practically shoving it in her face.

"Any particular reason?" she enquired, already anticipating the answer.

"Nah. Just me being a nosey parker as always." He pulled a face, fiddling with some wires inside the TARDIS console then bending over and crawling underneath to do God only knew what. It wasn't reassuring, flying in a time machine that only occasionally got you where and when you wanted to be and always seemed on the verge of falling apart. But she loved the TARDIS anyway. It felt reassuring, welcoming. Homely.

"You mind reading it out loud?"

"What's this, an English lesson?" Rose rolled her eyes. "Why can't you read it yourself, since you apparently read at a rate of knots anyway?"

The Doctor laughed. "Good point. I need to make a couple of semi-urgent repairs. Besides, I want to hear your take on it."

Rolling her eyes, Rose began reading. "20th Century Earth submarine found on Cavalcade I confirmed as genuine missing World War II sub by controversial inventor." She stared at the screen for a moment until the Doctor hummed at her to continue. "Project leader Dr Patterson stirs trouble in consulting inventor of so-called 'omniscience glasses CJ Nanahara-Cruz, 22, to examine the bizarre find. M-x Cruz-"

"It's pronounced mix," the Doctor corrected. "It's a gender-neutral title preferred by some."

"Right. Mx Cruz is wanted by several major planetary governments for their notorious invention.'" The picture showed a young person with wild black hair and a cheeky, defiant grin. They had a visor pulled up on their head, presumably those weird glasses. "Um, Mx Cruz identified the ruined sub, which has puzzled orthodox scientists with its finding and been the subject of a whole host of conspiracy theories, as the HMS Veto, a lost British submarine presumed destroyed in 1943. It seems likely the sub was pulled in through the perilous 'Hydra' rift, of which Cavalcade one has long been suspected to be a...subsidiary, whatever that means. No dead soldiers have been found however. Mx Cruz has pinpointed the sub's final coordinates prior to entering the rift as-" She cut off. "A long sequence of numbers and letters and stuff. 'If this is true,' Dr Nayyar, another expert on the project, 'It shows it is indeed possible to ride, as it were, the rift itself. All one needs is the right sort of-'"

"Alright, you can stop there," the Doctor interrupted, sliding out from under the control panel. "Mysterious sub displaced through time, the Hydra rift, mad scientists meddling in things they don't understand like always. Any one of those is worth looking at closer, all three's Christmas come early. Y'know, the Hydra rift has a thousand exits, they say. Named after the Hydra in mythology. Cut off one head, three more grow back. So what do you say, Rose Tyler? How about it? Wanna go ride the Hydra rift?"

Rose couldn't help grinning. Whatever happened next, there was no way it could be dull.

 **Sometime earlier/later, depending on perspective:**

Clattering, straining metal, the weight of oceans pressing in on them. Elisha hadn't particularly excelled at physics but he knew it was a miracle of modern science that they were even able to survive at such depths. Leonardo da Vinci would be over the moon. Truly, it was spectacular. Except when you heard that groaning noise, the one that sounded so _alive_ , and sometimes, no matter how experienced a seaman, you still felt that shudder running down your spine. Younger hands, less familiar with the depths, would be understandably skittish their first time below. Take young Ben, who was only just eighteen if that, who jumped at every creaking sound.

"It's alright, lad," Lending Hand Charlie Bones, their signaller - a scarred man from an accident on his previous vessel he'd been lucky to survive intact and in any condition to serve. "'s the sea singing, innit?" Charlie was a Mancunian and carried the accent with him, except when speaking on the radio itself, when he went all public school and proper and you would remember that for all his rough appearance (courtesy of the enemy), he had been a Cambridge man. Very bright mind. Elisha had known him a long while, they knew most everything about one another. Well, except one thing. Elisha's secret, that he intended to take to his grave. Right now that looked likely to be a watery one.

Another shuddering. Like something stirring in the depths.

"That's all well and good, sir," young Ben replied, ever the smart-mouth. "But it's not exactly Vera Lynn, is it?"

"Oh, sod Vera Lynn. If I have to hear that bloody bluebirds song again, I'm defecting. Say what you like about the Germans, but they've got the best tunes."

"Well, they do say the devil has them," Elisha chimed in. Charlie tensed.

"Lieutenant Montgomery. No idea you were there. To clarify, everything I just said there, all in jest. Love me some Vera. Never talked treasonous in my life." Then he smirked. "How was that?"

"Oh, awfully contrite. You almost sounded sincere for a moment. If I didn't know you, I'd almost have fallen for it. Almost."

Charlie whistled. "See? Told you I was good. Should've gone into acting, me."

Even Ben relaxed momentarily, joining in their laughter. All seemed right in the world. They were somewhere safe, not in a tin can miles below the surface, waiting for a U-Boat to come into range. There was no war on.

...there was always a war on. Elisha couldn't shut that out like Charlie could. It was always on his mind.

When the green light hit them with a resounding thunderclap, he wondered if that was what death felt like. He hadn't expected it to be _green_. Few did, he imagined.

A young man, a _boy_ , screaming.

His oldest friend trying to keep them all calm.

A green light permeating through everything, intermittently dull and blinding.

And a wheezing, moaning noise, of something following not far behind.

He woke up alone; in a forest, judging by all the rustling and the leaves and what not. Groaning he sat up, clutching at his aching head. He felt deeply nauseous. It was dark.

"Eli? Elisha!" He heard Charlie call, stumbling out of the undergrowth followed by Ben. "Easy there. Shit, excuse me Lieutenant. Sod it, sod rank. Where the blazes are we?"

"I haven't the foggiest. Why are you asking me? You're supposed to be the brains of the outfit."

"Since when?"

"Since _always_ ," Elisha hissed.

"Great. So the officer doesn't know where we are," Charlie muttered. "Just bloody perfect, innit?"

"I'll have you know man, that contrary to what you may think, becoming an officer does not magically bestow one with an innate sense of geography. It doesn't help it's as dark as pitch out here."

"Darker than the Devil's antechamber. Except with less Vera Lynn," Carlie remarked snidely.

"Are we dead?" Ben asked, voice quavering and tremulous. He was Catholic, wasn't he? Deeply devout. This couldn't be heaven. Charlie was an atheist and Elisha was who he was. Where the dickens were they? "Is this Heaven? Or Purgatory? Or...or…" he trailed off, leaving that question unasked.

There was a rustling in the undergrowth and that strange green glow was back. For want of a better thing to do, Elisha headed toward it, ignoring Charlie's protests and insistences of his insanity. They reached the HMS Veto, which seemed to be adrift on a sea of gold, the vegetation seeming an odd colour. Though that was possibly the strange light. The sub itself was ruptured and torn to shreds, holes littering its carcass. There atop it stood a shape, flickering black and white, flowing in and out of a bright rip of green and sewing it shut, blocking out the light.

Elisha's breath caught in his throat.

The thing turned. It seemed to study them. Sizing them up. Elisha wondered if it were a predatory species. He didn't wonder long. Unanimously, the three survivors exchanged a look and fled.

They were careening madly out of control and the Doctor was fighting a losing battle to stay on the tail of the swiftly vanishing sub. But it was hopeless when they were being cast about like rag dolls, tumbling all around the control room and clinging on for dear life. Riding the Hydra rift was a lot less fun and more bruising and nauseating than Rose would have imagined.

"No no no no no no, c'mon," the Doctor muttered, getting increasingly louder, hitting the side of the console with a hammer. "I know full well you can do this. I know."

"Doctor? What's up with the green light?" Rose asked nervously.

"It's just this particular rift. It's very unstable. Probably a bad idea to dive in headfirst but hey, you live and learn."

"Now you tell me," Rose scoffed. Before the Doctor could reply, they were tossed abruptly left, with a loud roaring noise and then everything went black. Only momentarily, until the TARDIS lights kicked in. There was silence.

Rose tried to catch her breath. "Where are we?" Looking up at the screen, she saw only blackness.

The Doctor shrugged. "Sensors are down. Reckon that's the only way to find out." He threw open the doors, stepping out. Rose quashed the sinking feeling in her gut and followed him. If he thought it was safe to go running headlong into possible danger like that, so be it. It had got them into trouble many times already, but it was also what had got them out again. Anyway, this was an adventure, wasn't it? Time to see what was out there.

They exited the TARDIS into a lab, everything very sleek and polished, except for the rusting hulk of metal that was all that was left of the HMS Veto. A group of scientists in lab coats were staring, and the Doctor beamed at them, waved cheerily.

"Hello. You must be the science team. I'm a consultant." He flashed the psychic paper at them. "Here to check up on how you chumps are doing. Everything good?"

A bearded gentleman in a tweed-effect suit stepped forward. What year were they in again? Rose wished she'd read the heading on the article more closely. "I'm Doctor Patterson, head of this project, and I assure you no such consultant has been sent for. Who are you?"

"They came through the rift," A middle-aged woman with striking green hair and facial jewellery said. "It would take probability-manipulating technology to control which exit of the Hydra you emerged from. There are only a few recorded civilisations that-"

"Oh, we didn't mean to end up here," the Doctor interrupted. "We were actually tailing the sub and got cut off by the rift. We must have emerged a few years late. Sorry for the confusion."

"I'm calling security," Doctor Patterson snapped. "Nush, you'll be okay keeping an eye on them until then?"

His colleague nodded and drew a blaster, at which the Doctor rolled his eyes. Rose groaned. He was going to make some tactless comment about guns now, wasn't he? For sure. It was something he couldn't _not_ do.

"Hey, that's weird," a voice came from inside the sub. "The rift's playing silly beggars." CJ's head popped out the top. "Visitors? Ooh, nice one. Why're you pointing a gun? That could hurt someone, Nush. Rude."

A look of panic crossed Dr Patterson's face. "CJ, I'd stay back if I were you. We don't know who they are. Spies, assassins, _journalists_. You have a lot of enemies."

"That's what happened when you invent the newest tool in espionage, isn't it?" the Doctor remarked. Dr Patterson tensed. Said inventor only chuckled, hopping down from the sub energetically and smiling.

"In my defence, that was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally-" Rose began.

"Quite easily," CJ answered quickly. "See I was trying to make a study guide in uni so I could look up sources of any and all data efficiently, right, but I forgot to put any...well, parameters. So it analyses _all_ data. Only realised I could see confidential files after they went on the market and I got _rich_. Used the money to flee before the bounty on my head opened up. Question is, people from this timeline know all of that and you aren't natives of the 1940s judging by your closes and judging by how your capsule emerged intact so who are you? Aliens? That'd be neat. Wouldn't that be neat?" CJ exhaled, finally stopping for breath. And Rose had thought her mother could motormouth…

The young inventor, who was only a few years older than Rose herself, flipped a pair of blue glasses down from the mess of tangled hair. They frowned. Then their jaw dropped. "Police telephone box, circa 1960s UK. Phased out. Used as disguise for Time Lord 'the Doctor's capsule or TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Which means one of you is-" the hesitated and pointed at the Doctor. "Your face appears on the most conspiracy blogs, circa 2005-ish. You also have two hearts, not a typical human feature I must say. Ergo alien. Ergo Time Lord. Ergo the Doctor. And you…" They focused on Rose. "Rose Tyler. Myspace profile, 2005. Really? Myspace? Wow. Missing persons record and then known association with the Doctor for some time." They frowned. "I- uh, can't really say more. Stupid glasses." They flipped them back up onto their head, looking somewhat downcast before perking up again. "So hey. I'm CJ Nanahara-Cruz. Pleasure to meet the both of you."

"Wow. That was...impressive," Rose said, disbelieving. The Doctor looked less wowed. "Wasn't it, Doctor?" He pulled a face. "Ignore him. I thought it was pretty cool. How old were you when you invented those things?"

"I was an undergrad so uh, seventeen? Eighteen?" Flipped the glasses down. "Ohhh, seventeen and eight months. To the day. Gotcha." Flipped the glasses back up and grinned.

"You're a genius. I'd dropped out of school by that age and was working in a shop. Until _somebody_ blew it up." She grinned. She knew the Doctor wouldn't let that slide. He never did.

And she wasn't disappointed.

"Hey!" he retorted, indignant. "There was context!"

CJ tittered. The rest of the lab staff were not so amused.

"CJ, I really think-" Dr Patterson began, then tried again when he went ignored. "Seriously, now. Think about this."

Even one of the other lab staff joined in, a technician-looking guy. "C'mon, buddy, maybe calm down just a little, yeah?"

CJ snorted. "Why? The actual _Doctor_ 's here. He can help us with our problem."

"I hardly think that's something we should be talking about to intruders!" Dr Patterson's tone was almost pleading now, but the bundle of energy that was CJ continued nonetheless, entirely oblivious. Not maliciously, just off in their own world. The Doctor could be like that at times. Less blissfully for sure, and frequently angry, but still capable of that immense turn of wild energy.

"What's the problem?" he asked, eyes narrowing, a glint of excitement there. You could practically see the cogs of curiosity ticking over inside his head. He was trying hard to seem concerned but it was easy to see he was on the edge of his seat with the excitement of it.

CJ grinned wickedly and said the word that would cement the deal. "Oh, you know. _Monsters_."

 _Several years ago_

They'd been running from the static creature, tripping over and making what must have been a thunderous racket as they stumbled through the darkened undergrowth. Behind them, or perhaps it was an illusion, there was an odd buzzing, like white noise on the radio, or a swarm of unusual bees. Elisha didn't know what it was, only that they had to get as far from it as possible. As far from that _thing_ and the submarine and the green light. That awful green light.

That light that had felt like death.

When they could no longer here the noise, the three of them stopped.

"What the bleeding _hell_ was that thing?" Charlie asked, wheezing with manic laughter. "I can't- what was it?"

"This is Hell, isn't it?" Ben murmured. "We're in Hell." He started to cry.

"Settle down, lad. This isn't Hell," Charlie said, but he didn't sound particularly convinced. "Lieutenant? What do we do?"

"I don't know-" Elisha began, feeling more and more like a failure, when the trees rustled and silence fell through the darkened forest. He reached for his gun instinctively. "Be ready. Anything could come out of those trees."

"Yeah, I'm sure guns will do an awful lot against that thing. With luck, it'll be its one weakness."

"Ssh," Elisha hissed. "Did you hear that?" It wasn't the buzzing. It was an ordinary rustling. Footsteps. "Over there." They turned collectively, guns at the ready.

The undergrowth parted.

Elisha's gun fell from his hand.

"Oh Jesus Christ," Charlie shook his head despairingly. "You're right. This _is_ Hell."

They looked up at the silhouette, the outline where a person should have been, fizzing and crackling and buzzing, that buzzing all over again. Hissing.

The thing stepped closer, static shifting within it, and Elisha backed away, but there was nowhere to run now.

This would be it.

Life or death.

He took a confident step forwards, ignoring Charlie's protests. If he was going to die, he wanted it over with. No drawn out conclusion.

And it never hurt to be friendly.


End file.
